


A spoonfull of sugar

by Lestradesexwife



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Homophobia, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Mentions of Previous Relationships, Pegging, Praise Kink, Strap-Ons, attempted anti-homosexual therapy, homophobic family members
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-09 12:14:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1982613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lestradesexwife/pseuds/Lestradesexwife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre-Afghanistan John is sent to Miss Adler for some... corrective scolding.</p><p>That's not what happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A spoonfull of sugar

**Author's Note:**

> *edit i'm a dork and forgot to put this in* ALL PRAISE LAPOTTER AND CONSULTINGSMARTASS FOR THEIR AMAZING BETA WORK.  
> as usual all punctuation and the existence in fact of this story are owed to them... I'm just the nerd with the ridiculous porn brain.

John does his best not to fidget, feeling under-dressed even in his suit and tie; the room he’s been left in has that sort of casual elegance that is usually only ever seen in magazine spreads. He runs his palms over his knees, telling himself he has nothing to be worried about.

 

The receptionist comes back in with a tea tray, and John relaxes slightly as she pours for him. “Just milk, please.” 

 

She smiles as she adds a dash to his cup and pours another. “Miss Adler will be with you in just a minute.”

 

John clears his throat and looks away. “Thank you.” He’s trying not to be nervous about Miss Adler, or angry, because, even though this isn’t his idea, none of this is her fault. She’s a professional, doing her job. The fact that Father is the one paying her, that Father had arranged the entire experience to “make a man” of John… well. That’s Father, and nothing John can say, do, or be will change his mind.

 

The door swings closed behind _Kate, I think she said Kate._ John loses himself in the swirling patterns of milk in his tea for a moment before picking up the small spoon and quickly stirring, careful not to touch the sides of the cup with the spoon, the cup looks like it cost… well, enough that he didn’t want to chip it accidently. 

 

 _It is just a cup John… stop._ He sighed and picked up the cup carefully, sipping at the perfectly flavoured drink. Father wasn’t born with money, his fortune was earned and closely guarded, to the point that it was almost surprising that he was paying for Miss Adler’s services. _He’ll expect a good return on the investment._ John winced and sets the cup down on the saucer. 

 

The door opens again and a woman in an exquisite suit enters the room. “Good afternoon, Mr. Watson.” She waves a manicured hand as John makes to rise. “Please, sit. I don’t stand on formalities during the negotiation stage.”

 

“Then, please, call me John. Mr. Watson is my Father.” John lets the corner of his mouth turn up, trying for lighthearted banter.

 

Miss Adler’s eyebrows rise slightly. “Yes, I’ve had the pleasure of speaking with your father, he was very _straight_ forward about his expectations.” She takes the chair opposite John and picks up her tea. “I, however, do not negotiate with third parties.”

 

“He’s paid you, though.” 

 

Miss Adler sits back in her chair, saucer in one fine boned hand and cup in the other as she lifts it to her lips. “One of the joys of my line of work is the ability to accept the money of people I find loathsome and use it as I please. If your father is dissatisfied with my work, he can make a scene and bring dishonour on himself, and provide me with some free publicity, or he can swallow his vile tongue and rethink his life decisions. I will not be bullied into sexually assaulting someone.”

 

John picks up his tea and swallows a deep gulp to cover his shock. He’d rather expected Father to have found someone who would do his bidding without question. “So, what do… what do you want me to do then?”

 

“John, we don’t have to do anything at all. If you like we can sit here and drink our tea like civilized people. Or I can have Kate come in, she’s very good at small talk… and all the latest gossip. Television programmes, and sport.” 

 

“Or?” John prompts.

 

“Your father was quite explicit on the types of behaviour I was to train you to avoid. If you like, we could engage in all of them.” She sips her tea and watches John over the lip of her cup.

 

“I think Father chose you because you lack certain parts… you’ll forgive me, but they are often deemed necessary.”

 

“John, darling… that’s very limited thinking on your part. Well… on your father’s anyway. I have a perfectly serviceable harness and a range of options, I’m sure we can find something to suit your… taste.”

 

John’s mouth goes dry and he tries to sip at his tea, only to find it empty. He’s careful when he sets it down, but it still rattles as he pulls his hand away. “You’d… but… it can’t be… for you…” John’s mouth finally stops making words and a blush explodes across his face, burning down his neck in embarrassment.

 

“I enjoy my work on a psychological level, however, I prefer not to mix business and pleasure.” She smiles and sets her cup and saucer on the tray. “I’ll admit that the idea of ruining you and sending you back to your neanderthal of a father does… please me.”

 

John closes his eyes, guilt, fear and a growing coal of lust warring for control of his body. It wouldn’t be… the same. The memory of Father walking in on them, Victor’s cock buried deep in John’s arse. It wouldn’t be the same with Miss Adler, but… “When do we start?”

 

“Do you have a safeword, John?”

 

“Yes, airstrike.” Victor had picked it for him, and John had never had to use it with Victor. “I don’t actually… pain isn’t… something I enjoy.” John feels the blush creep across his skin again. “I… I just like rough, not… whips and…”

 

“Thank you for telling me, John. Is there anything else?”

 

John blinks, considering. “I don’t know… I do like to be told… if you like it…” He’s not sure how to express what he wants and he licks his lips. “Victor would tell me it felt good for him, but…”

 

“John. I understand.” She stands and walks around the table between them. Extending her hand to help him up. “Don’t worry, everything will be fine.” She hooks her arm through John’s when he’s standing and guides him across the room towards the door to the hall. “Once we get upstairs, I’d like to bind your hands, if that is alright with you?”

 

“Yes, Miss Adler.” 

 

She smiles. “Thank you, John. First I need you to choose a toy you want to play with.” She steers him gently towards a closet beside the stairs. 

 

John’s mouth goes dry at the sheer variety of sexual objects behind the door, organized by type and size, from hyper-realistic to something that looks like it belongs in science fiction. His eyes skid over tentacles and something with scales, retreating to the more human proportioned shelves. “That one.” He points, thinking it is probably rude to pick one up without permission.

 

She pulls it down, gently closes the door and turns John towards the stairs. “Are you ready to go up?”

 

“I think so, yes.” John’s heart beats fast in his chest, and his cock twitches with interest in his pants. “Thank you for this.”

 

She puts her hand in the small of his back and guides him up the stairs, through an open door to the right. He’d expected a bed, or maybe a room full of chains and a St. Andrew’s cross. Instead he finds another tastefully decorated room, bare hardwood floors shining in the light of a large uncurtained window. 

 

“It faces the park, but there aren’t any decent sight lines, don’t worry. And the room is soundproofed, if you are of the vocal persuasion.”

 

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

 

She narrows her eyes slightly. “Sir, I think. For the purposes of this exercise. Shoes and socks off, kneel there with your hands behind your back.” She turns away and walks through another door, the tile and corner of a mirror visible suggesting a powder room.

 

“Yes, sir.” John bends to untie his shoes, works them off quickly and tucks his socks into them, making sure the whole mess is arranged neatly beside the door.  He kneels on the sun-warmed boards in the centre of the room, remembering at the last instant to put his hands behind his back.

 

 

“Oh, very good, John.” Miss Adler walks around behind him and runs her fingers through his hair. He shivers at the slight bite of her nails against his scalp and she pulls away. “This is for your own good, John. You’ll be good for me won’t you?”

 

“I know, sir. Thank you. I… yes sir, I will.”

 

She puts a noose of silk cord around his right wrist, slides it tight against his skin, pulls his left wrist over to cross his right and wraps the tail end around until he can’t move his wrists. “If you struggle too much this will chafe.”

 

She slips something cool and metallic into his left hand and closes his fingers around it. “I’m going to fuck your mouth, John. If you want to safeword, or just need to breathe and rest for a minute drop this on the floor. Do you understand?”

 

“Yes, thank you, sir.” John squeezes his eyes shut and tightens his grip. The edges of the thing in his palm are uneven and it takes John a moment to decide it is a skeleton key.

 

“Good boy, open your mouth for me, John.”

 

John keeps his eyes shut but lets his jaw drop open. He licks his lips as her cock presses against his mouth, flicks his tongue out to run over the head.

 

“Eager little boy, open up and take it for me.” Her fingers tangle in John’s hair and pull him forward, sliding in and filling John’s mouth. 

 

John keeps his eyes closed, but feels himself relax as she pushes into him. Her cock doesn’t respond the same way Victor’s did, but she gives little twitches of her hips, and her fingers dig into his scalp as she fucks him. She pushes deep and he swallows hard, suppressing his gag reflex even as his nose presses against the fine wool of her trousers.  

 

“There’s a good boy. Get it good and wet.”

 

John groans and swallows, working the length of her cock until his mouth is full and wet and she slides easily past his lips. Her fingers curl against his scalp, bright points of contact where she pulls his hair too tight. His cock is hard and pulsing in his trousers; if he could touch himself he could come from this, has done in the past, stroked himself off while Victor fucked his mouth until they came together. He clenches his fingers around the key and moves his hips in time with Miss Adler’s thrusts. He promised her he would be good, and he groans around her cock. _please, please sir… fuck me… please, i need… please._ He grunts every time she pulls his head down on her cock, the sound turning desperate and needy as his jaw begins to ache.

 

John opens his eyes when she pulls him off her cock, looks up at her and moans. The crisp line of her trousers is only slightly marred by the harness she is wearing over them, her cock drips with his spit, but otherwise she is calm, cool and dispassionate as she looks down on him. 

 

“You look fantastic with a cock in your mouth John, so pure, you love being fucked don’t you darling?” 

 

“God, yes sir. Please, sir… I... Jesus, I’m so hard… you feel so good, sir… please… I want to…. please I need to come.” His voice is rough, but he pushes towards her, licks along her length. “Please sir, fuck me…”

 

She takes hold of her cock and presses it back between John’s lips. His eyes roll back in his head as she snaps her hips hard twice, pushing deep into his throat. John leans into the thrusts, whimpers when she pulls away. 

 

She pushes him down, until he’s bent double and she can reach the rope around his wrists. A couple quick tugs free his left hand and she opens his fingers to take the key from him.

 

“Stand up and open your trousers. Push them down past your knees and bend over the arm of the lounge.”

 

John does as he is told and braces himself against the lounge. 

 

Miss Adler looks him over and makes an approving noise. “That’s a good boy. Here.” She hands him a foil wrapped condom. “Don’t make a mess on my upholstery.”

 

“Thank you, sir.” He opens the wrapper gently with his teeth and rolls it down over his cock. He braces himself on his right arm and continues to stroke his cock with his left. 

 

“Perhaps on our next visit I will have you fill yourself up with one of my big toys and watch you make yourself come. It does hold a certain promise. Such a wanton boy you are, John.”

 

“Yes… oh... _yes, please sir_.” John strokes himself, quick sharp tugs that pull at his foreskin and make him arch his back.

 

“Not until I say.”

 

John stills his hand, caught for a moment in the long arch of his back. “Yes, sir.”

 

Her hands are cool and soft against the heated flesh of his arse. He’s surprised when he turns his head to find her wearing latex gloves.

 

“Do you want preperation, or are you ready now?” The look on her face is still disinterested, even as she opens a tube of lube and squirts some onto her fingers.

 

“I’m ready now.”

 

She slaps his arse gently, just a reminder of who is in charge.

 

“Sir.”

 

Miss Adler pushes into John’s arse with two fingers, sudden and deep.

 

John cries out, a full throated sound of surprise. 

 

“Better.” She pulls her fingers free and slicks her cock. 

 

John drops his head between his shoulders and exhales as she presses into him, slowly filling him up until he feels her trousers against his arse and thighs. He stops thinking about what is happening and just feels it, the slide of the cock inside him over his prostate making every nerve sing. “More, fuck… more, harder… please… please… more.” The words form on his lips over and over until he can’t understand them any longer and they might just be moans. Her fingers dig into his hips and her hips slam against him, each thrust forcing air and sound from his lungs. 

 

“That’s good, John. You like that don’t you? Like my cock in you?”

 

“Yes… oh _Jesus_ it feels so… so good.”

 

“I wish you could see yourself, your tight little hole taking my cock.” Her hands slide over his arse and push him open. “So good for me.”

 

John’s nerves catch fire and he groans, on the tipping point because… _she’s watching, seeing him._ “Oh… please, I’m going to…”

 

“Yes, good boy, John. Let me see what your hole looks like when you come with my cock in you.”

 

John pushes himself up, straightening slightly so he could pump his fist over his cock. Miss Adler fucks him, but with short sharp thrusts that send stabs of pleasure through John. “Oh, _Christ… oh Jesus!”_

 

Her laughter is high and pure. “Such blasphemy!” But she pulls his hips sharply back and laughs as he cries out. 

 

John feels as though he is full to bursting, held tight in her hands.

 

“That’s it, good boy. Show me now.” Her lips brush against the shell of his ear.

 

John’s heart pounds in his chest and he convulses, letting the white hot flash of pleasure flood through him. She fucks him through it, whispering praise into his ear until his right arm gives out and he collapses over the end of the lounge, burying his face in the overstuffed pillows.

 

“That’s beautiful. Well done, John.”

 

She’s stopped moving, but she’s still inside him and John moans as his body twitches and spasms around her. 

 

“John. Listen to me. I have some homework for you. You like the clubs don’t you John? I want you to go out and find someone to fuck you. I want you to fill your tight little hole, and bring me back a picture.” She runs her finger over the place where she ends and John begins. “You should know what this looks like.”

 

“Yes… thank you, sir. I will.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Two things... first, there is no aftercare in this chapter. For the sake of the narrative I left it out, but Irene is a professional and would ensure that John does not experience sub-drop. Please insert your favourite aftercare method here. 
> 
> Second... I currently have no plans to write a second chapter to this. However, I do have a headcanon that John does send her a picture for his homework assignment. And then continues to send her photos both before and during his deployment. The photos stop when he is injured and sent home.
> 
> When we rejoin BBC canon Irene is surprised to see him, but doesn't let it show. (Or, she's upset with John for not sending photos of his relationship with Sherlock and her attempts to seduce Sherlock could be seen as revenge.... that one is a bit up for interpretation.) John on the other hand has never seen Miss Adler naked before and is thrown off by her body.
> 
> Whatever Irene's motivations, there is a substantial folder on her phone of photos of John Watson's lovely arse stuffed full of cock.


End file.
